


Child

by shipsfall



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Captain Pan, Emotional Manipulation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsfall/pseuds/shipsfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of a child who was once a man, and a man who was once a child.<br/>Killian Jones is trapped in Neverland with a shadow and a man-child who doesn't know how to be a man or a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, Pan is a broken thing lost in his own hopelessness and afraid of the world. As a man, he could never figure out who he really was, and now as a child he fights hard to hold onto what he thinks he is and can be, but somewhere under all that fantasy and bravado and anger, he's as much of a lost boy as any of the children on the island. I'm trying to delve into that a bit and figure out just what it is beneath the surface that calls out. Please forgive any errors, this is my first fanfiction and i hope it's not too disappointing.

"Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children." - Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

 

    Killian flexed his fingers experimentally, knuckles cracking with the tightening of his fist, ligaments pulling tight and tendons tensing with each pulse of grip. It was a strange feeling, having a hand... again. It'd been so long a phantom sense of his own extremity that the real thing felt far more false than the ghost he'd carried beneath the hook. It took a moment before Killian worked up the nerve to do much else than stare, but after a moment, he pressed his palms together and used his other hand to test the reality; he felt his own fingers slide across his new knuckles, the pressure of his grip, the scratch of his fingernails in the creases of his palm.  

    So lost in disbelief and rediscovery he almost forgot Pan crouched not a few feet away, and he jerked his head up to meet the eternal boy's smiling eyes. A scramble backward found his new hand meeting the roughness of the ground, and despite the situation, the sting of scored flesh felt beautiful to Killian. Pan took eager note of the pirate's response to that little pain, that small reminder that it was real and true and he was whole, and his smile grew wider. Killian narrowed his own eyes, wondering at the happiness in the boy's eyes; if that happiness were covert cruelty, a shadows game of manipulation and a hateful tradeoff of joy for pain. He wondered what Pan wanted, and what he now owed. Pan tilted his head to the side and his smile faded somewhat as he finally deigned to speak.

    "My my Captain, such suspicion in your gaze." Pan laid his arms over his knees as he spoke, relaxed pose never relenting as he held Killian's gaze. The pirate frowned, shifted into a less submissive posture by rocking into a sitting position, wiped his new hand across his thigh to remove the dirt.

    "What do you want, Pan?" Killian hoisted himself up to his feet and stared down at the boy who'd tormented him enough of his life that he could only find suspect in his every action. Pan smiled, his eyes following the pirate up, sweeping from the new hand to his face, and down across his whole person.

    "While I understand your trepidation, I assure you I want nothing. Except, perhaps…" Pan drew the words out, gaze dropping to the ground as his hand swept out to skim across the floor, scattering pebbles and debris in a wistful manner. Killian nearly laughed, eyes rolling as he shifted his hips, taking a more confident stance now that Pan had set him at ease with their situation by returning to familiar refrain.

    "Oh, and there it is." Killian's interruption brought Pan's gaze back to his eyes. The pirate refused to break the stare but closed his lips nonetheless as Pan stood slowly, all grace and youthful effortlessness.

    "Except, perhaps," Pan continued deliberately, his mood seeming unchanged in his friendly demeanor; suspicious as that was, Killian did not step back or show any outward concern as the boy began to move about the clearing. "to know that my adversary were at the top of his game." Pan chuckled lightly, winking at the Pirate as he stepped closer. "How am I to know how truly superior I am if my enemy is not at his best?" Killian frowned and narrowed his eyes, fisted his new hand against his thigh.

    "If you expect me to believe that nonsense, your underestimation reaches farther than your belief that the mere loss of a hand would render me in any way incompetent." Killian tucked his new hand behind him, at once declaring it irrelevant to his prowess, and, he suddenly realized, in a gesture that could be read as fear that Pan would somehow take it back. Instead he quickly turned it into a bow as he drew his dagger with his other hand. "If you are to test yourself against me with one, or two hands, I gladly accept." Pan's eyes swept the Pirate's frame again, ignoring the hand behind his back, but drinking in every detail, every nuance of stance and composure as a shadow swallowing the world in darkness.

    "Perhaps it _is_ a game." Pan conceded with a returned bow, stepping again closer on his silent feet, his long limbs catlike as he circled in, closer to the pirate; all casual nonchalance. "What then, if not a gift, or a paired match or a matched pair, would my reason be? To battle and lop it off again is ultimately pointless, and you know well nothing I do is pointless." Pan smiled sweetly and moved closer, each nod of head and cut of eye matched his invasion of space until Killian could smell the forest on the boy, now just an arms length away.

    "It's not for me to know the workings of your mind, Pan, only to someday lop off the head that makes them." Pan did chuckle then, amused and childlike in a way that Killian had seen so rarely; it was almost frightening, and the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end with the anxiety that raced through him in that moment. When Pan's laughter stopped suddenly, he was again closer, and Killian had to hold his breath not to gasp his surprise.

    "Here, then…" Pan's fingers were warm against Killian's wrist, strong grip holding his hand aloft and blade to the boy's own throat. "you've only to pull it across my neck; lop off this head, Captain." Pan released his grip on Killian's wrist, his fingers trailing down the man's arm, warm even through the leather of his jacket, burning along the skin beneath.

    "What are you doing?" He held a moment, steady before he could feel the shake manifest in his muscle; confused rather than fearful. A game more dangerous than any they played before, if only because now Killian had no clue what the rules were, nor the end game. Pan smiled again as Killian worked his jaw and tongue to speak, happy to have put the pirate off his game and to have shaken the man's confidence. "I could cut your throat and be done with your torture, free of it…" Pan nodded.

    "You could." Pan's head tilted, the skin of his neck brushing the sharp edge of the dagger, his smile turning somewhat sad as he parted his lips to sigh. "No need to shake so, Captain." His voice was comforting as a boy's, and Killian managed to refrain from jerking in surprise when Pans hand's yet again found his arm, light and instructive as it steadied his blade. "Hmm.. I think I may have a solution…"

    Pan's movement was so quick, Killian near missed it. The eternal boy shifted in a flash, ducking the blade and spinning to press his back against the pirates chest, bringing Killian's blade arm in until the edge was again pressed against his own throat. His other hand found the arm at his side, fingers wrapping around the new hand and drawing the arm up until it was across his own chest, and he'd trapped himself inside the circle of Killian's arms and his blade. For a long moment the pirate was breathless and confused, his shock stilling him to inactivity as Pan manipulated their positions into one that, at a glance, seemed to favor the Pirate.

    "There now, Captain. Does this position provide more sturdiness and confidence? Your arm should no longer shake now that it is not outstretched with the heft of the blade and a boy's life weighing it down." Pan's voice held no note of mockery, but Killian felt the words sting nonetheless, and in a sudden resurgence of control over his own limbs, he tightened his grip, pressing the blade tightly against the boy's throat. Pan hissed and smiled, all teeth, and a blush rose to his cheeks.

    "Do not mock me, child. You forget that I have survived you long enough to know a game when I see it." Pan nodded in the grip and Killian tightened it again, shifted the blade until it drew a thin line of blood from the unblemished skin. "As much as I'd like to take this as an advantage, I know that it's unlikely I can see every angle. Have you cursed the hand to do your bidding instead?" Killian dug the fingers of his new hand into Pan's shoulder. "There's magic in this, and I know my best chance is not to take one. What are you playing at?"

    "Playing? Yes, I'm playing." Pan squirmed in the grip, pressing himself back into the pirate's body, his warmth bleeding through as if he had a fever. Killian shifted, jerked Pan's thin frame in his grip, hissed in warning. "Is it not always a game in Neverland?" Pan turned his head, stretching taught the tendon and muscle in his neck and Killian had to relax the pressure on the blade to keep from pressing a deeper cut into the boy's neck; Pan didn't seem to care, he simply smiled at the gesture. "But perhaps _this_ game isn't for life or death, rather, something else entirely…"

    Killian leaned his head back away from the closeness of the boy's face, met those ageless eyes and watched the shadows and secrets dance there for a moment before smiling himself.

    "You think me easy?" Killian smiled wider. "Well, I _am_ easy. And I'm false, and I'm shallow, and again, I'm a simple man. A bottle of rum, a warm body in my bed, a good fight and a trinket or two of treasure and I'm sated." Killian shifted against Pan, pressed his new hand to the boys chest and fisted the cloth there, hauling Pan flush against him. Pan's hand came up to grip at Killian's wrist, warm fingers tight to bruising as he sucked in a breath, showing the first sign of real response since the whole thing started. "But you, you are never satisfied." Killian snorted a laugh and met Pan's eyes with a hard stare. "And for you, my satisfaction is not this game, but your breaking or your death. I do not understand you, and I don't wish to."

    "You tried to once." Killian narrowed his eyes, felt the grip Pan had on his wrist loosen as the boy's head settled back against his collar bone. The boy let out a sigh and attempted to lead Killian back into his first days in Neverland, when he still thought he could rescue these lost boys and their de facto leader, when he didn't understand the shadow or Pan or any of the darkness that blanketed this forsaken realm. When he thought he was a good man beneath it all, when he still liked to remember what he was before he lost his brother and his way.

    "Perhaps once, I thought it was possible." Killian allowed his new hand to travel up Pan's collar, lifted his blade out of the way so that he could swipe away the blood, and trail his hand, so full of bright vivid sensation, across the youth's skin. He followed the line of Pan's throat up to his chin and ghosted over the boy's cheek to his hair, pushing it back from his eternally young forehead. Pan sighed under the touch, veritably shivered at the feel of the Pirate's fingers on his skin. "As much as you are a thing of magic, older by far than I am, you are still a child too. I thought…" He brushed his fingers through Pan's hair lightly, feeling the softness with almost confused realization. "children get lost, get lonely. Once, I thought you could feel that too."

    "And now, Captain?" Pan's voice was near whisper, but the title brought Killian back to the moment, to his fall as a good man, to his loss, to his anger, to Pan's monster. The pirate hid his return and stroked his hand through Pan's hair again, allowed his eyes to soften and leaned in to press his forehead to the boy's temple, sighed softly against the youthful cheek. Pan let his eyes slip closed and dropped a hand to grasp at Killian's thigh, those warm fingers tightening into the muscle pleasantly, slipping inward, long digits pressing between and shifting upward and drawing his heartbeat into quickness. Killian bit back a growl and used his hand to grip tightly at Pans hair, twisting his fingers into the soft strands and wrenching the boy's head sideways as he roughly forced their mouths together.

    Pan's smile was obvious against the pirate's lips, wide and open mouthed as his sharp teeth caught Killian's lip and tongue as they worked themselves together. The boy's hand slid farther up the pirate's thigh as Killian dropped his arm to tuck away his dagger and find better use of his hand. The boys stomach was flat and taught under his hand and fluttered beneath even the rough exploration the pirate made, tense and soft and full of heat and distracting enough that Killian nearly forgot the dual motivation for his actions. The boys hip was sharp, but absent of weapon, and his fingers found no device of trickery tucked into the folds of the boys clothes anywhere his hand dared travel; and aside from awakening arousal even the most intimate of hiding places seemed absent of means.

    Killian slowed the kiss from desperate and punishing for a breath, parted their lips to glance at Pan's face; the eternal boy's eyes remained closed, his hands still working, but gentler, and his breath was quickened. The pirate prayed his seeming descent into lust was clever enough to fool the even cleverer boy in his grip and leaned in to press his mouth to the boy's, leaving but a hairsbreadth between them. Pan opened his own mouth slightly, breath wet and warm, and flicked open his eyes; Killian found them dark with a lust only a child could harbor, and the grim and immutable passions that only a creature such as pan could quarter.

    "And now…" Killian smiled against Pan's mouth, felt the boy return it in kind, a pair of wolfish lips succumbed to each others' tricks. "I know that you are far more clever than I believed, and I lament my underestimation nearly as much as you shall." The pirate pressed in for another kiss, bit down not too harshly on the boys lip and shifted, shoved the boy away and down. For a moment, Pan seemed shocked, but was ever quick on his feet, turning and snatching Killian's own blade from his hip as he skidded across the dirt, lashing out to nick the pirate's jaw as he spun and lithely turned his imbalance into a fluid movement that ended in a catlike crouch.

    With a hiss, Killian leapt backward and away, hand coming to press at the cut to the side of his chin, beneath the dark hair. He pulled his fingers away and gazed at the blood there, smearing it between his thumb and forefinger before grinning brightly at the gracefully crouching youth. Pan smiled up darkly at him, eyes narrowed but still heated; as if this pleased him more than any submission Killian could have offered.

    "So clever, clever… Your mind rings with that word, I can hear it." Pan laughed the words, mockingly; Killian frowned and wiped his hand harshly across his mouth and spat. "I lament…" A smile twisted the boy's mouth and he stood, flourished a bit and tapped the dagger to his lips gently. "I lament only that this," He licked at his lips and shifted the dagger to swipe his thumb gently over his bottom lip, still smiling. "ended so quickly. I dare say I enjoyed that more than you did, perhaps my enjoyment is enhanced for the fact that you do not want to enjoy it." Pan laughed again, almost he seemed confused by his own revelation. "A riddle!" Tears sprang to Pan's eyes as he giggled, but it seemed the verge of hysteria, the edge of anger, and the darkness changed from lust to shadow.

    "Riddle?" Killian spat the word, gestured at the boy, deliberately dismissive. "A child, riddled by a man's province. You cannot feel, or perhaps you do, and it lights that fire in you, and you lash out with cruelty in your confusion." Killian softened his voice, but allowed a smirk to twist his lips. "Are you lonely Pan? Do you now feel lost? Your games, perhaps they are nothing more than a child crying out for help, for love." The pirate shook his head and wiped at his chin again, tested his fingers in the shallow wound, subtly watched the storm roll into Pan's eyes, his demeanor. "You don't want to grow up, but you want to play at being a man."

    "You know nothing!" Pan's words tumbled out quickly and without the wit and sting they usually did, and Killian glanced up to find the boy's gaze. "I was a man, and what is a man, but someone weighed down by a man's burden?" Pan flicked the dagger out, pointing. "I have it all. I have power, youth, and twofold the years of a man behind me and countless ahead of me, without the fade that you will suffer." Pan squared his shoulders and refused to look away from the Pirate's stare. "And lonely? Ha! I have my lost boys, and I have _you_." The boy smiled as he spoke the last word, his chest puffed out like a small thing playing at being large.

    "Me?" Killian frowned, shook his head as he processed the claim. Pan smiled again, a smirk, and tilted his head down to glance up darkly at the Pirate. Killian returned the smile and watched Pan's falter for a moment. "I suppose you could say that you have me. I cannot leave Neverland, and for that I'm tied to you. Or rather," Killian allowed his anger to cloud his face, his disgust, his brow to draw together and his eyes to bore into the boy. "You have me as a child has a toy. What implication lies in that, boy?" Pan's smile fell instantly.

    "And a child can do what they wish with their toy. They can play nice, or they can break it." The boys fist tightened on the dagger, his eyes narrowing cruelly as he made his threat.

    "Aye, that they can. And what can you do with a broken toy?" Killian spread out his new hand before him, an offer amidst his flourish of a bow. "Do as you wish, _child_." The pirate remained in pose; head bowed, but watched from beneath the fringe of his hair as Pan contemplated his options. For a moment, he feared the eternal boy would lash out, take back his hand, kill him, lock him in the darkness or feed him to the shadow. He flinched when he heard the whistle of the dagger as the boy flung it through the air, braced for pain; but the blade sank into the dirt at Killian's feet instead, and when he looked up, Pan was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pan is a child, and children sometimes act strangely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than i had planed, but i hope not too terrible. I wanted Pan to have a tantrum of sorts, without it being overly dangerous for Killian. I'd been up all night and wrote this quickly, so I hope I didn't do as much damage as I fear. I'm afraid, though, I've lost some of the voice I had when starting, so if it seems different somehow, or out of place, or lacking the flow the first chapter had, I apologize again. If I don't get everything out in one sitting, I think it tends to change a bit over time.

   Killian woke slowly, lingering in shades of dream, the feel of fingers on his cheek, gentle and warm. He let his eyes remain shut and savored the feel of the light touch as it moved down past his short beard and to his neck, his collar, the dark hairs that swept across his chest. His senses were muted and sharp all at once, and he sighed slowly and opened his eyes. Pan crouched near him, one hand pressed to the pirate's breast; Killian froze. A glance met Pan's eyes, red rimmed and angry and full of tempest. For a long moment, the boy held his gaze, silently reading what he found there, his hand clawed and tightened against the pirates chest as he found other than what he wished in the man.

    "I despise you." Pan's words were like a child's, spiteful and false, but his fingers were like the claws of a hawk and Killian grunted in pain as the short nails raked into his skin. He reached for Pan's wrist, viced his fingers around the thinness; he could feel the bones grinding in his grip. Pan stilled instantly, his hand went limp in the pirate's hold. "I despise you." The boy repeated the words, a whisper that felt as if Pan were trying more to convince himself than the man he cursed.

    "Boy…" Killian's voice cracked as he spoke and he cleared his throat, moved slowly as he drew the hand farther away from his neck. "Boy, what's the matter?" Pan's glossy eyes shot up to connect with the pirates, pupils large and black beneath puffy lids that had obviously shed tears.

    "I am not a boy!" Pan hissed the words, wrenched his wrist from Killian's grasp and scrambled backward, belying his words by his actions there; frightened and angry and childish in gesture. "I am Pan, no mere _boy_. Who are you to call me so?" Pan pointed with a long finger, hand shaking in anger. As much as the pirate wanted to find comfort in the eternal boy's unraveling, it served only a chill in his spine and a skip in the former steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was frightening, when such a power grew so reckless and unsettled.

    Killian sat up slowly, held his hands out in a gesture of calm, trying desperately to appear as unthreatening to the boy as he could. It was not unusual to for the boy to slip into a wild state, find him hollow eyed and angry, tearing down the forest around him with his lost boys trailing behind, howling and riled into frenzy… but this was different. It was a fracture that split to the core of the boy, sore down to the soul. Killian cleared his throat again, softened his voice and held his hands before him in a placating gesture, palms up.

    "I meant only to ask that you were alright. Forgive me." Pan stilled again, his eyes boring into the pirate's own, head tilting as a wolf's. A slow smile spread across the boy's face, sweet and saccharine and crooked across his mouth. Killian felt his blood run cold at the sight; this was a Pan he recognized, the one who would never let him leave the island.

    "Forgive you?" Pan's voice is soft, near a whisper, when he speaks. "Forgive you… and what have I to forgive? Have you done something, Captain?" Killian shivered at the sound, almost wished he'd let the boy claw through his chest to his heart rather than face this shadow in the boy. Killian lets his eyes slip closed and prayed, to whatever god could still hear him from this forsaken place, that the shadow would slip away as quickly as it come.

    "Would you not know, that I had?" Killian spoke gently, nodded at the boy as he did so, and shifted slowly, aware that Pan's eyes were tracking every movement like a predator. He eased himself onto his knees, feet tucked beneath him, ready to fight or flee should the need arise, but subtle and with as much grace as he could manage so that he appeared at rest. 

    "Perhaps I do." Pan smirked, an arrogant tilt of his chin caused his eyes to catch the reflection of moonlight that filtered through the trees, and Killian was reminded of the shadow and its ember eyes. "Perhaps I choose not to, so that you may carry that guilt to me, confess, and accept whatever punishment I shall apply." Pan spoke from behind Killian this time, sharp chin pressing into his shoulder and breath in his ear. The pirate's muscles clenched in shock, but he managed to suppress the reaction; the boy's unearthly ability to move in the space of a blink never ceased to unsettle him.

    "And what shall I confess?" The boys hands slid up Killian's arms slowly, warm fingers searing through the thin cloth of his linen shirt, gripped cruelly at his biceps as Pan held tight with his uncanny strength. The boy chuckled and tilted his head till it crushed against the pirate's ear, rocked his temple against Killian's like a cat giving affection, eyes closed and bright smile stretching his lips.

    "Confess…" Pan pulled away, leaned over the pirates shoulder to catch his eyes. "Confess that I have you." Killian stared back, face passive as he searched the depths of the boy's eyes for danger; to suspect anything less in the eternal boy was foolish, but there in Pan was also a bargain. To find it, that line that led him choose a game or a chance, was survival. It's what made Pan so unique, and so dangerous. Pan smiled again, released his grip and circled Killian, hands trailing his shoulders as he moved round. The boys too warm hands never left the pirates body as he came around to crouch, again, before him. Those long fingers slid up Killian's neck gently, came to close on his face, one palm to each cheek.

    Pan's thumb swiped the skin beneath Killian's eye gently, each pass so soft it was near painful, and the pirate shivered. He lost himself a moment in the gentleness, as he had when he first awoke to the feel of the boys hands on his skin. It was confusing how kind those hands could be, with a heart so corrupted by darkness and so quick to devour and lay waste. Pan leaned in, so close they shared breath, and Killian found himself leaning in as well, settling his forehead to the boy's with a gentle sigh.

    "I confess, you have me." Pan's thumb stopped stroking as the words were spoken. "Would you break me now, or play a bit longer?" Killian brought his hands up to pull at Pan's wrists, slid them up to cover Pan's own hands as they pressed against his face. The boys eyes hardened, grew dark with shadow again, and he pulled away from the pirate, hands still trapped beneath the man's larger palms.

    "You think my patience is so long that I won't?" Pan spat the words, but his eyes were wet again, red. The boy moved to pull his hands away, and Killian quickly slipped his palms down to circle the boys wrists, held tight enough to bruise.

    "Then do it. I tire of your games." His words were pointed, as a man talking to a child in midst of a tantrum. "All your power... Are you not a King in Neverland? Do you not have everything you ever wanted?" Pan jerked at his wrists, but the pirate held tight and the boy did not use his strength to break free. "What use have you of me? What is my value? A man, not a child; a pirate. Devoid of innocence, starving of faith, poisoned by sins too many to number." Killian spat the words, self pity and anger laced through each syllable. "If you want me, here I am. Do as you wish, boy! What power have I to stop you?"

    Pan did jerk free then, so suddenly that he fell to sprawl on the ground. For a long moment he sat there, legs bent and splayed before him and hands dug into the soft ground; shaking with confused rage. Killian stared back, eyes hard and challenging, but the boy only lay there, his heavy breath heaving his chest. Killian stood slowly, dusted his pants with his hands and turned his profile on the boy lying on the ground.

    "I cannot leave this place without your permission…" Killian's voice was quiet, his anger had drained at the sight of the child that now lay on the ground, tears spilling over the rims of his eyes. Pan, for all his danger and power and shadow, was such the child at times that Killian could hardly hold to a form of him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Pan sit up, brush the dirt from his palms and roll into a crouch, bring his fist up to roughly swipe at his wet eyes as if disgusted by his own tears. His countenance was dark again, brow furrowed and mouth twisted into a flat line; the boy stood slowly and turned his back to Killian. The pirate expected to turn and find him gone, but when he did, Pan was still there.

    "And I shall never give it." The whisper was a hiss from between Pan's teeth, biting and cruel, and possessive. Killian stared at the boys back, his narrow shoulders and the thin line of his body, so like a shadow in the darkness, that for a moment he feared he had been talking to the demon the whole time. Instead, he realized how deeply the shadow itself had twisted into Pan, how lost the boy truly was, fed the coldness that thing nursed him on. With a sigh, Killian turned away from the boy, his feet taking him deeper into the forest and away from Pan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Children are honest, even when they aren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to recapture the first chapters flow, but i find it might have been unsuccessful. I'd wanted to inject some of their history into the whole thing.

    "A bit peckish, are we?" Killian started violently at the sound of Pan's lilting voice, his breath catching painfully in his chest, and his hand fumbled the apple he had been peeling. It rolled away through the dirt and leaves, ruined. "Oh, did I startle you?" The boy's laugh was strangely pleasant to the pirate's ears, despite the return of the cruel mocking that so often textured his words - it felt whole and stable and familiar. Killian didn't turn to greet the boy, instead, reached for the half peeled apple and began picking the bits of leaves and dirt from the bare flesh of the fruit.

    "What do you want now, Pan?" He swiped roughly at the quickly browing apple and took a defiant bite, grimacing privately at the grit of dirt in his teeth. Pan chuckled behind him, an echo of mirth remaining even as the boy was suddenly crouched before the pirate, warm hands resting with casual familiarity on Killian's knees. The pirate clenched his jaw and let his eyes slip closed in effort to not show any sign of surprise or fear; the boy found too much joy in the unease he instilled in others.

    "I want what I've always wanted," Pan ducked his head to look up into Killian's eyes, smiling sweetly, his red lips wet and shining and demanding focus. The pirate swallowed uneasily and dragged his gaze up to the boy's eyes, caught at the green of the forest reflected there. "And we both know what that is, now don't we?" Killian felt his heart hammering in his chest, felt it shake him in pulse and rhythm as if he were reverberating with a tribal drum beat; he suspected Pan was all too aware of it, so close there was no chance the boy couldn't feel the pulse of blood that rocked him as they sat all but motionless.

    "Is that so?" Killian tried for boredom, and was pleased that it had come out at least sarcastic, and allowed a small smile to spread his lips. Pan caught the smile and matched it, bested it when he stretched his own dark smile wider.

    "There now, that's my Captain." The boy patted a hand on Killian's knee and twisted himself around with his ethereal grace to seat himself beside the pirate, shoulder and hip and knee flush against the man's body. "I do so love to see you smile." Killian rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Pan to stare at the sway of the foliage around him, stirred in a breeze that offered little respite from the humid heat of the Neverland forest.

    "Smile? You mean writhe in agony. Or perhaps just discomfort today? One can never tell with you, your moods _do_ swing." Killian's voice was low, as if meant to be spoken under his breath, but it was deliberately for Pan's ears. The boy laughed, leaned into the pirate, rested his ear against the man's shoulder as if he were the child he seemed, and they were friend enough for the gesture to have meaning.

    "Come now, no need to be rude, Captain. Such _bad form_." Pan sat up straighter and leaned forward, rested his elbows against this knees. Killian did turn then, let his eyes slide over the boy's profile; it was surprising still how like a boy Pan could be at times, with his chin in his palms and his eyes twinkling.

    "I do wish you wouldn't call me that." Pan turned suddenly, bright eyes catching Killian's for a beat, smile slipping away sadly.

    "Shall I call you Killian again? Would that please you? Would your hatred of me lessen with each time I say it?" Pan loosed one of his hands and moved his wrist to the side, allowed his knuckles to catch against the pirate's shoulder, swept them back and forth as he stared at the man's profile. Killian clenched his jaw again and shifted, tossed the nearly uneaten apple into the brush and used the motion to separate himself from Pan's touch. "Killian, Killian, Killian…" The boy repeated the words, mocked the pirate with each syllable.

    "You have a child's cruelty." Pan frowned at that, stood and crossed his arms over his chest, stared down at the man.

    "Do I?" Killian could feel the boy's eyes on him, an anger matching the sudden heat in his words. "I suppose it's true, but I prefer that to the man's cruelty I find in you." The pirate shook his head and stood, threw his arms out in gesture.

    "A man's cruelty comes from being a child, a child's is a petty mockery of a man's." Killian stepped closer to Pan, met him face to face, spoke down at him as the boy's jaw clenched. "Shall we go round like that? Bicker and feint some more?" The pirate shoved a hand through his hair and leveled his gaze at the boy. "What do you _want_ of me?" Pan stood his ground as Killian leaned in to hiss the words a breath away from his face.

    "Dare you press me?" The words were whispered, but carried a threat that thrummed through Killian in a way that chilled him. He cast his gaze down to Pan's fisted hands. "Your first visit to the island…" Pan circled Killian, paced about him slowly as he spoke. "with your brother." The pirate closed his eyes to the memory, held himself rigid, shoulders hunched and jaw clenched. "I warned you of this place, I was kind."

    "Kind?" Killian interrupted the boy, turned to face him with a cruel sneer. Pan moved into his space in a blink, leaned in to bring his mouth to Killian's ear.

    "Kind." The word was a hiss, and the boy's breath ghosted across the pirate's cheek hot enough that his skin felt raw. "If not for me, your brother would have died. I warned you not to leave the island unless you were willing to pay the price." Pan stepped back, caught the pirate's eyes and held them.

    "You were intentionally vague." Killian whispered the words, accused. Pan smiled then, shook his head.

    "Was I?" Pan leaned in closer, pressed his cheek to Killian's. "Could you not tell from the moment we met what my intentions were? Were you so innocent and naïve that you recall that as vague?" Killian moved to step back from the boy, but Pan caught his forearm in a grip, pulled him closer. "Who then, was the child?" Pans fingers tightened on his arm and Killian allowed himself to be held in place. "You felt it as I did, you knew."

    "I did not know what you were. That you were a thing of magic, a gaoler." Pan snorted at the words, the side of his mouth lifted in a smile.

    "And how did you get here? The way is not so simple." The boy stepped back, fingers still tight on Killian's arm. "You knew. You knew when you sailed into these waters, when you stepped on this land." Pan locked eyes with the pirate, nodded once and narrowed his eyes. "When you looked at me, you knew."

    "That you were to trap us here…" The pirate's voice was soft as he spoke the words he knew were truth. Pan shook his head, pulled the man closer.

    "Only you." Pan smiled sadly then, released his grip on the pirate and stepped back. "That you could have your brother here was a gift. A kindness. But you were meant for this place, just as I was." Killian turned away from the boy's gaze, stared at the leaf littered ground; he remembered the feel of the boy's strangeness, the possession he saw when the child looked at him. He remembered, too, the strange draw he'd felt to the boy, unable to look away if he met the boy's eyes. Were it enchantment, or fate that he was sensing, he still wasn’t entirely sure.

    "You let us leave, then. You wanted my brother to die." Killian's accusation drew a sad chuckle from the boy and he glanced to catch Pan turning away, a short glimpse of red rimmed eyes that seemed strange in light of the eternal boy's cruelty; there was regret there.

    "I wanted then, only what I want now." Pan's words were casual, an arrogance mingled with a surety that spoke of acceptance, as of fate or destiny; like he spoke of a fixed thing in their lives that he was tired of battling against. Killian felt anger rise in his chest, his heart pounding and his hands warm with blood as he clenched his fists. He reached out and took the boy's shoulder, spun him hard to face him.

    "And what is that? Hmm?" Pan's jaw was clenched, his eyes shining with unspilled tears. "To trap me here, to play out your cruel games on a man who has no power to stop you?" Pan tore himself free of Killian's grasp and pointed a long finger accusingly at the pirate, arm shaking with suppressed emotion.

    " _You_ came back!" The boy's breath came out rough, his nostrils flared and his teeth gritted tight. "I did not bring you here! You came back. To the island, to Neverland, to _me_." Pan dropped his hand, stepped close. Killian stood in shock, watched the boy's face redden, the tears spill down his cheeks in wonder. "You talk of games. Is that not a game? Returning to me, taunting me with your hatred, telling me only how much you despise me and want to leave. I let you leave, you came back!" Pan met Killian's eyes, his stare hard, the shadow swirling through his green eyes. "You speak of cruelty…"

    Killian turned away from the emotion he saw torrenting from the boy, watched from profile as Pan stared, eyes tracking his every move. Guilt washed over him, and anger; the twist of circumstance and the cruelty of this island - the work of a shadow feeding on pain as much as the fancy of young boys dreaming this place from their beds. There was a balance to it, true, but the cost was so vile and so high. Pan's chest heaved as if the boy were winded, and Killian felt slack and weak in the face of it. His hands loosened and he let his eyes slip closed as he turned to face this hurt child, forgetting a moment the power harbored within the eternal boy's innocent seeming façade.    

    "Boy…" Killian opened his eyes and forced himself to look at Pan. The word set the boy's jaw again, and the pirate imagined he could hear the teeth grinding in that boyish cheek. "This place is a poison…" Killian raised a hand just slightly, reached toward the boy unconsciously, something within him wanting to offer comfort to this child, but Pan sneered. The boy stepped back as if from a snake's strike.

    "Don't." Pan ground his teeth again, puffed out another angry breath from his nose and clenched a fist. "How dare you pity me. I should cut your throat." Killian frowned, confused at the sudden spite and vehemence in the boy's words. "I tire of your insolence, of your _man's_ cruelty, of your stupidity." Pan turned on his heel, swung away from Killian's gaze. "You want to be free of Neverland, of _me_ … go. I grant you passage." Killian stood, still and confused. A game, a trick, for once, he was sure it wasn't. The wash of relief, of freedom, felt tainted and stale in the moment. Pan glanced over his shoulder, hesitated and looked away again. "I'm sick of you anyway." The words were again the lies of a child, hurt and desperate.

    "Pan…" Killian wasn't sure what it was that drove him to move, but he found himself stepping closer to the boy. Pan stiffened, his posture threatening; the pirate stepped closer anyway. The bark of the tree bit into Killian's back painfully, tore his flesh as Pan shoved him against the trunk. Those ever more familiar warm fingers stung at his throat, the grip tight enough that breathing was difficult; he knew that in a moment dizziness would settle over him, and he fought hard not to succumb. He feared, suddenly, he'd not die, but wake and be gone from this place. A strange thing that suddenly that was more worrisome than being prisoner in Neverland.

    "Would you rather I kill you, then?" Killian scrabbled his fingers against Pan's wrist, clutched at the boy's shirt with his other hand, refusing to gasp despite the choking pressure on his neck. Pan stared, eyes locked with the pirates for long moments, searching; and in his eyes swirled an angry confusion and desperation. Killian saw rejection and loneliness there too, desire and what seemed a misplaced need that might have been love, had it not been so corrupted by shadow. And still, tears. They tracked down the boy's cheeks, angry now, his lids puffy and bright red with heat.

    "Peter…" Killian croaked out the word, breathy and cracked beneath the boy's tight fingers. Pan stilled, his eyes widening for a moment, and his grip softened. Killian did gasp then, sucking in a smooth breath; it felt as if he'd come up from beneath the water. He loosed his grip from Pan's shirt, flexed his fingers against the boy's collar and gripped again; afraid the boy would come to his senses again and crush his throat. "Let me go." The demand was a gamble, and though soft, was still insistent. The boy did not release him, but leaned in, his breath sharp as he spoke.

    "Let you go?" There was something hysterical in the boy's voice that worried the pirate. "I let you go. You came back!" Pan laughed, a broken sort of sound. "And here I do so again, and yet you remain!" The pirate held himself still against the tide of the boy's emotions, his reaction seemingly something he himself could not control well.

    "I…" Killian's words were interrupted with a violent shake of Pan's head. The pirate kept his silence as the boy held him against the tree, waited while Pan shook with whatever coursed through him in the moment. The boy's eyes caught Killian's, held them, hazy and so full of a child's jealous hurt that the man was afraid to speak further.

    "Leave." Pan's voice cracked when he spoke, frustration punctuated as he shoved weakly at the pirate. "Leave…" Killian released Pan's wrist, grasped at his elbow, felt the fight drain from the boy as his head ducked on the word and he fell silent. The hand at the boys collar clenched, released, moved up to grasp at the boy's jaw, fingers splayed back along Pan's neck, thumb pressed into cheek, and he lifted the eternal boy's face. Pan held his eyes tightly closed, squeezed shut with force, as if not to see whatever frightening thing might scare him.  

    "I cannot leave Neverland." Pan's eyes softened at the words, the tight clench giving way to a more natural close, and the boy leaned forward. Their lips pressed gently, not in a kiss, but a touch that felt strangely innocent to Killian. The pirate stroked the boys cheek again, tilted his head and pressed in, meeting the boy's tentative touch with a heavier one and took a breath through his nose. Pan tightened his hand for a moment, slid his fingers around to the back of Killian's neck as he pressed in, body forcing itself against the man's, hip to hip, as his free hand caught at the pirate's ribs. The kiss never grew momentum, and a moment later Pan's lips pulled away, his forehead pressed to Killian's gently, and his fingers on the back of the man's neck tightened. His eyes opened, too close for focus, but bored into the pirate's nonetheless.

     "Cruel, Killian." Pan smiled, tears dried up and the tell tale lilt back in his voice. The pirate recognized the discord in his voice; this was Pan again, the one he knew. For a moment, his stomach dropped, feeling played and tricked, another game the shadow in the child had twisted, but the slight tremble in the boy's fingers belied it. This was a play for composure, to hide his fracture, his need, all the things that made Pan feel weak. That boy's mockery of a man's cruelty, and in the same, a man's attempt to make his vulnerability less like the child he still is. "And so I have you."

    Pan leaned in again, kissed Killian roughly, all teeth and hot breath in the pirates mouth. The pirate grunted quietly at the sharp feel of his lip splitting as Pan bit down, pulling it into his mouth as he jerked away from the onslaught. When he raised his eyes to catch Pan's, the boy released him, pulled free and backed away. The graceful swing of the boy's body as he moved backward was light, springy but unsure; overcompensating. His skin was still flushed and though he seemed to be back to normal, in control, his breath still heaved and his flourish of a bow was unsteady. A moment later, Pan was gone.

    Killian pushed away from the tree and smoothed his clothes before reaching up to swipe at his lip, one brow raised as he stared at the space Pan had last been. He spoke quietly, a bit darkly, to the empty forest. "And so you have me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation, and the start of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the chapter i intended to write, and it's late. The holiday traffic of family and company all over my house has been a huge distraction, and they've nearly ruined both my time and my concentration, so i apologize for whatever this is. Sorry if this isn't up to par, blame my brother and his need to be my shadow and read over my shoulder. If this feels like it doesn't fit, please let me know and i'll work on a rewrite.
> 
> [edited the chapter a bit for flow, fixed a few errors.]

    "You're still here." Killian bit down on his lip and squeezed his eyes closed tight as he fought his reaction to the boy's intrusion; irritated both at Pan's penchant for suddenly appearing out of thin air and his own consistent surprise. He huffed a breath and glanced up at the boy, his lanky form posed against a tree casually. The pirate forced a smile to his lips, shook his head to the side as he refocused on lighting his fire, striking his flint patiently over the kindling.

    "Aye, that I am." His voice was patient as he spoke, still concentrating on his strike, shoulders rocked with each pass of one stone against the other. The sparks failed to catch yet again, and the pirate let out an annoyed sigh. A moment later he caught the wave of the boy's hand from the corner of his eye, and the fire flickered to life, subtle and slow instead of a roar of flame; Pan was being uncharacteristically careful even in this effort. Killian frowned and glanced up, watched the boy push himself from the tree, a smooth shift of hips and shoulder, and move to crouch by the fire opposite him. "Thank you." Killian tucked his stones away in a pocket and reached for a stick to stoke the flames.

    "Enjoying yourself out here, are you, Killian?" Pan's voice held a note of mocking, but Killian ignored it, pushed at a thin log in the fire before he sat back, tossed the stick aside and laced his fingers between his knees. Despite the heat of the day, like summer in its tropical swelter, the night grew quite cold, and as the sun set, the fire brought both light into the oppressive darkness of Neverland, and a warm comfort against the chill. The two gazed at the flames in silence for a long beat, before the boy spoke again. "We're friends now, aren't we?" The pirate glanced up at the strange question, sensing a trap in the boy's words. Pan's posture was relaxed, back curved and shoulders low, hands dandling from knee toward the ground, and his face seemed a mix of confidence and curiosity.

    "Are we?" Killian pitched his voice low, doubt and scorn flavoring the tone. Pan laughed, his humor dark and condescending, shaking the boy's sharp shoulders lightly, and his eyes caught Killian's from across the fire. The pirate saw something dangerous there, the swirl of shadow and a sparkle of mischief danced in the green; it reminded him of how the eternal boy's shadow flitted through the trees, and the reflection of the fire was its eyes as they flickered in the darkness. "I'm not sure what we have could be described as  _friendship_."

    "Of course we are." Pan smiled brightly, sent the dark edge in his gaze fleeing and those same eyes took on that bright seductive glint that hypnotized each time it appeared. "But, then, I suppose you've got a point." Pan stood and circled the fire, each step soft and deliberate, his long legs bringing him closer with a grace that seemed unreal. He crouched again at Killian's side, a graceful fold of slender limbs, and tilted his head to catch the man's eyes; Killian felt his heart speed up and battled the sudden urge to swallow. "It goes a bit deeper than that, doesn’t it? There's something… more." The boy's voice was quiet then, contemplative, and he squinted a moment, concentration slipping over his features as he studied the pirates face.

    "More?" Killian was surprised to find himself near a whisper, and acutely aware of the flicker of a smile at the corner of the boy's mouth as the word slipped out. The man shrugged lightly, a casual lift of shoulders, and shifted his knee, unconsciously, toward the boy. "Yes, years of trying to kill each other can create depth." Pan broke into a smile at that, teeth peeking past his lips, the sweetness of a child showing through; that strange childlike honesty that often caught Killian off guard. One of the boy's slender arms came up, hand reaching out to rest against Killian's knee, warm fingers crooked against the firm muscle atop his thigh.

    "Why, I've never tried to kill you, Killian. Not once, in all the years I've know you." Killian did swallow then, thick and a bit breathless as the boy's eyes held his, each flicker of green bright in the firelight. "And I'd like to think, especially considering you're success rate, you've never truly attempted to kill me either." The boy laughed the words, amused and cheeky in their mockery, but they held nothing of maliciousness. Killian wondered then if that were true, if he'd failed so often to end the boy because somewhere within him, he had always known this; all of this that had come to light these past weeks in confrontation with Pan. The boy's hand patted against his knee as if he were passing along his amusement, and drew away; the flesh cold in its absence and more than a little distracting to the pirate.

    "I've been years on this island, and all of this comes to a head now? Why?" He wondered aloud, let his gaze drift across the boys face, watched the firelight paint changing shadows on the boy's features. Pan tilted his head a bit, quick like a bird, and his mouth twitched into a different sort of smile. "What changed?" Killian leaned toward the boy, challenged him and Pan met him with the steadiness of ages, his body still in that casual repose.

    "Nothing has changed, Killian. Nothing changes in Neverland." Pan smiled sweetly and leaned in, his form all fine lines and lissome fold of limb, balanced effortlessly on his toes. "That's the magic of this place." Killian rolled his eyes and leaned away from the closeness, used the movement to hide the tension that had spread through his body at the boy's nearness, and sighed long through his nose.

    "I am not so easily bespelled. I am not one of your lost boys." Killian nodded pointedly as he gazed down at the boy before him. Pan stilled a moment, his face flashing with anger for a brief moment before a sad smile tilted his mouth. The boy shook his head and reached to place his hand over Killian's clasped fingers, the burning heat in Pan's touch set a shiver through Killian's spine.

    "Oh, but you are the  _first_  lost boy." Pan's smile grew as he spoke, his tongue sliding across his teeth as he grinned, tilted his head in almost disbelief. Killian's eyes widened a bit as he processed the eternal boy's claims. "That's what Neverland is; a home for lost boys." The boy glanced down at their hands, swept his fingers back over the man's knuckles, a soft touch that pulsed and sent a flutter through the pirate's muscles. Killian tightened his joined fists against the sensation but did not pull away, let his eyes linger on Pan's downcast face. "You were lost that _first_ day here, with your brother, when you came for the plant. And you were lost again when you returned. But that's not why you came; not for the Dreamshade, not to find a weapon against your greatest enemy. No," Pan glanced up, raised a brow as he found the man still staring. "You came because you belong to Neverland, to  _me_."

    Killian shivered at the claim, felt his muscles tense at the seductive thought of this boy owning him so plainly; it was easy to be enchanted by the sweetness, the haunting cleverness, even cowed by the power that coursed through this feral child and his wrathful anger. Pan was a creature of duality, ageless child and wizened demon all twisted and bound together by shadow, and Killian was no stranger to the boy's ethereal charm, but he had never been held long in his spell. And now, he was not either. He let a smile slip to his lips, even as he feared his words would bring the boy's anger and a danger he might not escape.

    "You may have me Pan, but I belong to no one." Killian kept his voice calm as he unlaced his fingers, turned his hand over to grasp at the boys slender wrist, tugged him closer. Pan shifted forward, came down to his knees and reached up with his free hand to brace against Killian's knee. Pan didn't resist the pull, but his tense posture and expression spoke volumes of his displeasure, his eyes hard as they focused on the pirate. "Play all you like at being a god, a boy, whatever it is that makes you feel most powerful, but don't expect me to play along. I am not a boy, and I am not lost." The pirate sighed, loosened his grip on the boys wrist. "I stay because I cannot leave."

    "You are free to leave when you wish." Pan sneered as he spoke, the words as spiteful and false as they were the first time he spat them at the pirate, and his body near vibrated with tension. Killian laughed softly, shook his head, squeezed the boy's wrist gently.

    "Am I?" Pan glared, eyes dark in shadow; Killian leaned in closer, breath spilling across the boy's face. "You may not be stopping my leaving any longer, but you still keep me here. Everything in you holds on to me." Killian sighed, stroked his thumb along the boy's wrist softly. The boy's shoulders were rigid, sharp relief against the fire at his back, and his chest still as if he were holding his breath against the claim. "What do you want?" Pan stared back, motionless but for his eyes as they scanned back and forth over the man's features, angry and glossy with heat.

    "I want what I have always wanted." Killian sighed, flung the boy's wrist away from him and rubbed his palms against his pants, stared down at the boy with exasperation. Pan shifted subtly, slim muscles tensing beneath his skin as he held himself at Killian's knees. The pirate knitted his brows, shook his head minutely, fingers tightening against his thighs.

    "You keep saying this. Do you even know what you _mean_?" Pan stood slowly and dropped his arms to his sides, body graceless in his frustration, shoulders squared as he stared heatedly at the pirate. The fire at his back flared and spit with every clench of the boys fists. "To have me?" Killian stood as well, stepped to face the boy, leaned in close and lowered his voice to a growl. "So, you have me, and you are still not satisfied. What more is there?" The question seemed to shake loose something in the eternal boy, he nearly trembled with subdued emotion, his eyes sharp with tears as he stared back angrily at the accusation.

    "You keep something of yourself from me. I  _want_  it." Killian flinched at the heat he heard in the words, stepped back from the boy and searched those green eyes. Pan glared back, still shaking, eyes hard and pleading at once as if willing Killian to understand. It dawned on the pirate slowly and he stilled, his shoulders dropped dispiritedly and his eyes widened as it settled in his mind.

    "Love?" Pan went rigid at the word, swallowed slowly; Killian watched the boy's slender neck stretch, the Adam's apple bob with the effort. "That's it, isn't it?" The pirate's voice came soft, calm, but a hint of his surprise and curiosity lingered there too. Pan clenched his jaw, lips pursed angrily, as if the admission was something hateful.

    "What of it?" Pan's voice is a boy's again, ashamed and dismissive, but there's bravery there too in his lack of denial. Killian's anger softened instantly, heart panging at the lost and lonely child that hides beneath all that power and anger. For all the stolen children he'd brought to Neverland, and their worship of him, Killian realized that the one thing that has been lacking throughout this eternal boy's long years is the one real thing he's asking for from the pirate. Killian brought a hand to his head, pinched at the bridge of his nose before he dropped his arm to swing at his side and glanced back at the eternal boy. Pan had not moved, but his posture was unsure, the stillness of the boy's body seemed to be a brace against collapse.

    "What do you know of love? All that's in you is need, the greed of a child." Killian spoke the words softly, shook his head. His heart hurt for the boy, stung for him, but he knew all too well what darkness was in there too. His own life had shown him that love can be corrupt. His first love had been taken by a man who loved, so cowardly and twisted and spiteful that that love only drove him to cruelty, to murder. Killian's heart had long since mended from the loss, pieced together by a desire for vengeance so strong that it pushed all else out. And this boy, he had something of the same in him; something of both the coward and the casualty, all corrupted.

    "I love everyone in Neverland. I know love." Pan's voice comes out angry, his gesture, a sweep of his arm cast out to encompass the entirety of the island, was violent. The boy stepped forward, closed in on Killian, his posture tense as he leveled a stare at the pirate. "I give them everything they desire, grant their every wish. There is no hunger here, no sickness, they do not grow old or tired. No one wants for anything." Killian felt a spark of frustration flare in his chest, anger that Pan thought him foolish enough to think the boy himself believed such nonsense. Killian closed the remaining distance between them with a step, lean body pressing closer to the boy.

    "Is that what you want from me, then?" Killian spat the words angrily, narrowed his eyes as he leaned into the boy, brought his arms up and grasped at Pan's shoulders with both hands. "Here, boy. What is your wish, that I can grant it?" The boy glanced sideways at Killian's hands, watched the man's fingers wrap over the narrowness of his shoulder. A shiver coursed through Pan at the contact, his breath quickening under the man's touch. Killian lifted one hand to the boy's cheek, turned Pan's face until their eyes met, whispered against the boy's cheek. "Shall I fulfill your _desire_ , then? Tell me." The pirate leaned in, so close their breath mingled, and let his voice drop to the practiced seductive tones he'd mastered long ago. "Shall I kiss you again? Do you want my hands on your skin? If that is all that love is, it's simple enough to provide." Pan's chest rose and fell in stuttered breaths as he gazed back at the pirate, caught between desire and a betrayed revulsion, and Killian noted, no small part hurt.

    "I know _cruelty_ , too. You are cruel." Pan's hand came up quickly, slender fingers latching to the man's wrist as he wrenched the hand away from his face. Killian smiled unkindly and leaned away from the boy, jerked his hand free of the boy's grasp and chewed his lip; guilt warred with satisfaction in the pirate, aware that his game was both necessary and hurtful. "Why will you not give me what I want?" Pan's voice was unsteady as he spoke, his eyes suddenly swimming with unshed tears and body hunched as if he'd fold in on himself at any moment.

    "You cannot gain a man's love by force. Nor can you win it with games, or by simply demanding it." Killian backed away from the boy and sat heavily, a sigh bursting from his chest as he sank, one leg stretched out before him. Pan watched from the fire, flushed face hidden by the shadows as the man shifted and slumped. "It must be earned."  Killian glanced up, caught the boys glittering eyes, felt his heart stutter at the pain and confusion he saw there. He worried a moment he'd been too cruel, the child in Pan was a fragile thing, easily injured, and unpredictable in its reaction; as equally given to tears as violence. "And even if you have it…" Pan stared back hungrily, a child's greed painted into the lines of his posture. "Men are cruel, boy. Insistence can cause him to withhold it."

    The boy's face twisted at the words, angered by the truth of it, and his slender hands balled into fists as he jerked his gaze away from the pirate's, shoulders rocking with each ill controlled breath. Killian sighed again, reached up to push his fingers through his hair, and then shoved his hand into his coat, caught the neck of his flask. When he glanced up, Pan's cheeks were wet; the firelight sparkled in the tracks that traced down his face. The boy turned suddenly, an angry jerk of body, and cast a glare at the pirate, unabashed in his emotion as his chest jerked in a silent hiccupped sob.

    "You  _will_  give me what I want." The words were bitter, but Pan's voice was tight, as if fighting for steadiness as vigilantly as his body. Killian ducked his head and pulled his flask from his coat, watching the boy's hesitation from the corner of his eye. As he pried the cork free of the bottle, Pan took a step back, eyes tracking the rum as it lifted to the pirate's lips. The boy snorted in derision as Killian swallowed, head shaking in disgust as he turned, rigid with self control, and melted into the darkness at the edge of the camp.  


End file.
